


Vanilla Soap from Orlais

by achilleanoutlaw



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-30 05:38:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19846720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/achilleanoutlaw/pseuds/achilleanoutlaw
Summary: Green eyes, once so bright and full of life, are dim and unseeing now. And no matter how Cullen begs, nothing will make the wound heal, the life come back.





	Vanilla Soap from Orlais

_ The blood is everywhere - soaking into the ground, their clothes, coating Cullen’s hands. And he can’t stop it. No one seems to care, no one spares even a glance to the man on his knees, cradling the body. Green eyes, once so bright and full of life, are dim and unseeing now. And no matter how Cullen begs, nothing will make the wound heal, the life come back. _

Cullen wakes with a start. The breeze coming in through the hole on his roof runs over his skin, cooling the sweat and making him feel gross. He feels like he might vomit. He knows, logically, that across Skyhold the other man is most likely sleeping, completely safe. However his brain just won’t accept that. So Cullen leaves his bed, and pulls on trousers and a tunic before rushing across the bridge.

He makes it right up to the door to the man’s chambers when he pauses. He’s going to be disturbing him, and for what? A nightmare? He swallows thickly. Should he leave? Or should he knock?

The decision is made when the door is yanked open and Byron rushes out, nearly crashing into his chest, having been distracted with tying his robe. He pauses and stares at Cullen, and Cullen stares back.

In the dark, Byron’s eyes seem even brighter than normal. Like emeralds shining bright.

Cullen moves first, and Byron quickly raises his arms to slide them around his neck once he’s in reach. They cling tight to one another. There’s nothing said.. Cullen presses his face into Byron’s hair and smells the vanilla soap that the man had brought back from Orlais. The familiarity soothes him.

Byron steps back, and Cullen can’t help the sound of distress that bubbles from his throat. But Byron doesn’t leave him, just slides his hand into Cullen’s and tugs him into the room. 

They leave their clothes and boots next to the bed and fall in. They wind up pressed so tightly together that Cullen isn’t entirely sure where he ends and Byron begins. His head is hidden in his neck, arms around each other, legs tangled. Fingers are running through his hair slowly.

“Stay.” Byron murmurs.

“I will.” 

“Cullen,” It’s more urgent this time, “Stay with me.”

Cullen understands. He presses a kiss to Byron’s skin, “I will, I promise.”

The nightmares don’t stop. He suspects they never will. But the next time Cullen wakes in a cold sweat, it’s just a matter of reaching across _their_ bed and tugging Byron closer to soothe himself. 


End file.
